


Haunting You Haunting Me

by beezyland



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Bartender Sara Lance, Comfort, Crossover, Drinking, F/F, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Meet the Family, Minor Character Death, Pillow Talk, Post-Crisis on World-X, Shovel Talk, Softball, Sort Of, Sparring, Spoilers, The Author Has Written The Thing And Would Like Her Soul Back Now Pls, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Travel, Timeship is a Frat House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beezyland/pseuds/beezyland
Summary: To Alex, Sara is everything she never thought she’d want and maybe the one person who understands her best. To Sara, Alex is a pile of awkward who turns into a badass in an instant and a steady presence she never thought she'd need.They told themselves and each other it would only be that one night. They lied.





	Haunting You Haunting Me

**Author's Note:**

> Littered with spoilers for and references to Crisis on Earth-X. You've been warned.

 

...

 

After thwarting a hostile takeover by Nazis from another earth, Sara Lance goes back to another time and Alex Danvers goes back to another earth. It’d be silly for either of them to think that’s the end. No, far from it.

 

…

 

It’s weird how fighting Nazi doppelgängers who look like some of your closest friends and allies can make a time adventure with Amelia Earhart feel almost normal. Business as usual. Everything is quiet across space and time, at least, long enough for the Legends to justify ducking into a bar in the late 90s for a nightcap.

Sara watches Jax crash and burn trying to talk to a pretty girl in neon and Guess jeans. He’s been ready to drop lately, going into each new mission with a newfound intensity. It’s understandable. A part of him is gone. Whether it’s a byproduct of grief or his way of honoring Professor Stein is still unclear. Sara has been and will continue to keep an eye on the situation, speak up if necessary. She is the captain.

“I dunno how you do it, boss.” Jax spills onto the barstool beside her.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Nate insists. If he bops his head to the music any harder, he’s going to pull a muscle. “Have you seen her abs?”

Sara shakes her head, picking at the label on her beer bottle. “You either got it or you don’t.”

“Care to demo?” Jax asks. “Blonde at your six. She ain’t eyeing me out, that’s f’sure.”

Sara glances over. Out of curiosity. The blonde in question is attractive and appears to worship at the altar of Britney Spears. It’s bold of her, to stare so blatantly. Sara appreciates bold. Usually.

“Not tonight.” Sara takes a swig of her beer. Even if the booze is ridiculously cheap, something Ray marveled at like he marvels at most things, she’d rather stay away from the hard stuff and make sure everyone gets back to the ship without any unnecessary complications.

“No?” Jax’s voice cracks with disbelief. “That’s what you said back in 1286 when that maid-in-waiting was giving you the googly eyes.”

“Don’t forget how you turned down Beethoven in Teplitz, 1812,” Ray pipes in. “Beethoven! He wrote love letters to you, Miss Immortal Beloved.”

“You just have all the luck with historical figures,” Nate teases. “And historical figures adjacent.”

Sara lets out an exasperated breath. “I didn’t know you boys were keeping track.”

“Well, yeah,” Ray says. “You’re kind of a legend.”

They all groan in unison and throw bar nuts at Ray. What _boys_. Even Martin had commented on her brief romantic flings throughout time. The thought is bittersweet as she tips her beer back for a deeper pull.

“Ask me.” Mick belches from the other side of Sara. He’s got a nice collection of empty beer bottles lined up in front of him. Nothing new. “She’s still hung up on her wedding conquest.”

Sara thinks to smack Mick upside the head. Again. Instead, she waits until he lifts his drink to his lips. She hits the bottom of the glass bottle so beer spills out all over his face. Mick chokes, then growls, standing so abruptly his barstool goes flying behind him. He reaches for his heat gun, but thinks better of it. Anyone else for sure. Not Sara. Mick grumbles under his breath and wipes his hand down his wet shirt before moving further down the bar. No one else dares pick up where the conversation left off so Sara lets her thoughts drift.

Alex Danvers.

Flustered, self-tortured, awkward hand gestures. _Adorable_ Alex who can go from uncertain and nervous to hot, no-nonsense, more than capable government agent in the blink of an eye. What a combination. Sara has to call on all her League training to hold back a smile just at the thought. Oh what fond memories packed in amongst the stress, anxiety, and potential worse than death situations.

It had taken Sara some time to get to where she is, comfortable and confident in who she is. She lives in the moment. Sometimes that includes sex. It became abundantly clear casual encounters with strangers at bars wasn’t Alex’s thing. It became abundantly clear that Alex still has some things to work out for herself. Sara did what she saw best—gave her support, gave her closure. She’s sure, wherever Alex is, she will figure it out. Eventually.

 

…

 

Alex leans against the bar as she waits for the next round of drinks when the bartender pouring a bottle of Scotch catches her eye. Just looking at it, she thinks she can already feel a headache coming on. Before she can let the memories take root, a burst of laughter from _their_ booth yanks her back. Mostly Lena, but also Maggie. _Her Maggie._ How she missed Maggie’s laugh that reminds her everything is right in the world. That is, until the next galactic crisis.

Whatever Lena and Maggie are laughing over has Kara slumped down, looking more bashful than she did in eighth grade health class, which Alex didn’t think was possible. She has to ask. “What are we talking about?”

Lena gives her a wicked grin. “Just girls being girls. Trading craziest sex of our lives stories.”

A flash of blonde and the taste of open bar whiskey on a talented, _so_ talented tongue flits through Alex’s mind before she can think better of it.

Maggie’s grin is just as wicked if not more. “You’re up, Danvers.”

Alex feels a stab of guilt and can’t look anyone in the eyes.

Telepathy isn’t one of Kara’s powers, but she knows her sister and she’s quicker than most. “C’mon now, you don’t think I’ve heard enough intimate details of my sister’s…intimate life?”

Alex takes a long pull of the closest beer. Maggie shared a story about her, _them_? The guilt throbs.

“Then close your ears! I want to know!” Lena tries to cover Kara’s ears playfully, but sobers when she takes in Alex’s awkward fidgeting and the way Maggie’s smile tapers off. “Or not. Craziest sex of your life guy or girl probably isn’t worth noting anyway. Loving, highly committed sex, now that—”

“Who?” Maggie interrupts. Her directness is one of the many qualities Alex fell in love with. Not so much in this particular instance. “What did we say? Something about complete honesty this time around.”

Using that against her is a low blow, but the truth nonetheless.

Alex swallows hard against the knot in her throat. “Sara, the time traveling assassin.”

Lena laughs like she’s just heard a wonderful joke or maybe it’s the buzz from the alcohol. Kara mumbles into her drink and the word _sassy_ is definitely in there. While Lena keeps the conversation going, launching into a tale about the guy who once asked her to role play Jurassic Park in the bedroom, Alex polishes off her beer in record time.

At the end of the night, Kara manages to wrangle a more than tipsy Lena into a cab without too much trouble. Kara looks worried, but Alex just tells her to go, make sure Lena gets home safely. Alex watches the cab drive away before tilting her head to the sky and looking up at the stars. It’d be a lie to say she doesn’t think about Sara Lance, wonder about her, and where in time she might be. The thought evaporates the moment she feels Maggie behind her. It was apart of her training to always be on high alert and now, habit.

“So, the craziest sex of your life was with a time traveling assassin named Sara?”

Alex gulps, words stuck in her throat.

When they decided to give it another try, an admittedly rushed, adrenaline-fueled reunion not long after arriving home from Earth-1, they agreed what happened in the time they spent apart doesn’t matter. All that matters is they want to be together. Everything else, they’ll figure out later. So much of what happened on Earth-1 still feels like a dream. A hot, traumatic, _super hot_ fever dream.

“Could I take her?” Maggie asks, breath right up against Alex’s ear.

Alex laughs, squinting her eyes. “I’m supposed to be honest, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings…”

“Wow, Danvers.” Maggie tugs her closer. “You’re lucky I like a challenge.”

 

…

 

Captain Sara Lance watches her crew as they huddle around a piece of paper and bicker over a box of crayons, trying to fight off the pain starting just between her eyes. “This is stupid.”

“No, no, no,” Nate says. “He was paler and more slobbery. The teeth were sharper.”

“He was more Guillermo del Toro creature than Ridley Scott Alien,” Ray points out. Both his face and Nate’s light up as they proceed to high-five. Match made in nerd heaven.

“And ugly,” Mick tacks on for good measure.

“You’re forgetting some of us were born before your pop culture references,” Amaya points out.

“And some of us were born in a war-torn future after pop culture died,” Zari adds.

Amaya steals the red crayon from Nate and tweaks the drawing. “He had six rows of teeth. I think I got a good enough look when he held a knife to my throat and drooled all over me.”

“Now that was very James Cameron Alien _s_.” Nate pops the _s_. He and Ray high-five again.

“Don’t forget the stingers,” Zari says, picking up the black crayon.

Sara leans against the center console with her arms crossed. “Guys, we’re wasting time.”

Jax peers up at her and smiles. His smiles have been scarce lately so every single one is welcomed. “What’s wrong, boss? Anxious ‘bout seeing the girl who left you high and dry the morning after?”

Ugh. Okay, so maybe this one is slightly less welcomed.

“Yeah, I vetoed that plan,” Sara says. “Whoever comes up with a new, less stupid plan gets to set the bathroom schedule for the next five missions. Takers?”

“With all due respect, captain,” Jax says. “We already got beat by this thing twice. It’s dangerous and goin’ in blind ain’t helping. Gideon already combed through all the databases we got access to _on our earth_ and came up empty.”

“We don’t even know if this guy _is_ alien.”

“But it wouldn’t hurt to rule it out,” Ray points out. “Since we have interdimensional communication built into the ship and you know Supergirl and Agent Danvers pretty well, why not use a resource readily available to us?”

Sara keeps her face stoic when inside she’s kicking and screaming.

“Maybe next time, try not to seduce someone so competent and actually useful,” Amaya teases.

“Rookie mistake,” Mick mumbles.

Sara can feel that pressure behind her eyes building. Most definitely a headache.

“Y’all missed it. They kicked ass together,” Jax smirks. “As the leading expert on synchronized beating on bad dudes, I’ll admit team Agent Canary was dope.”

Damn it, Jax. Sara can’t bring herself to use her captain voice on them after the look that crosses his face. It’s the same look he gets whenever he’s thinking about and missing Martin.

“I think this is as close as we’ll ever get.” Amaya hands the drawing that could have been done by schoolchildren to Sara. “Call her.”

Sara groans. “If I do this, none of you get to mention the West-Allen wedding ever, _ever_ again.”

Each member of the crew mimes zipping their lips in their own way and they are all liars.

“Gideon,” Sara calls out reluctantly.

“Yes, Captain Lance?”

“Open communications with the D.E.O. on Earth-38 please.”

“Right away, Captain.”

The screen at the front of the ship flashes and it isn’t Supergirl or Agent Danvers. Not that Sara had hoped for either. Whatever gets them what they need. They’re met by a young man with bright eyes, a far cry from the Winn from Earth-X, general of the Freedom Fighters, so tired and burdened.

“Uh, hi,” Winn says. “Legends, right? Can I just say it’s an honor? You’re time travelers! How cool is—ouch!” He narrows his eyes to the left of him. “I’ll, uh, just patch you straight on through.”

The screen flickers and there’s Alex. “Captain Lance.” She tips her head and it’s clear this is Agent Danvers speaking. “Supergirl is out in the field at the moment. Anything I can help with?”

“Have you seen this guy by chance?” Sara holds up the crayon drawing as if she’s presenting some important piece of evidence. Typical half-assed-ness from the Legends, really. “Super strong, super leaping, ejects lethal stingers from his body. Our search for intel came up dry. Figured, what’s the point of knowing alien experts if we can’t phone in a friend every once in a while?”

Alex takes a long look, long enough for Sara to notice she’s wearing an all-black D.E.O. issued top that fits her like a glove. “My best guess, you’re dealing with a Hellgrammite. I’ll send all of our info over to you, including all reported sightings and incidents. No guarantee it’s an exact match with your earth.”

“We’ll take whatever we can get and figure it out from there,” Sara says. “We always do.”

With a silent wince, Nate raises his hand because somehow the bridge has actually turned into a kindergarten classroom. “Not to be that guy who questions a woman who’s _clearly_ qualified for her job, but would it be a bad idea to get a second opinion from an actual alien?”

Before she even sees the look on Alex’s face (outraged and beautiful), Sara shuts it down. “I trust Agent Danvers’ intel.”

“You should,” Alex insists. “It’s good intel. I defeated one by forcing the stinger he protruded from his hand straight into his heart.”

It gets so quiet in the bridge, you could hear a pin drop. Why does Sara feel so weirdly proud?

“Thank you, Agent Danvers, and thank your friends at the D.E.O. for us.” Sara gives her what may or may not be classified as smolder depending on the quality of the transmission. “And, Agent Awkward Hands, tell your sister I’m still waiting to hear back about that drink.”

Alex opens her mouth as if to comment, but thinks better of it. “Always a pleasure, Captain Lance.”

Sara’s ears tingle from the sweet sarcasm. She thinks about that time she heard it slurring _filth_ in her ear. The second the screen goes dark, the boys all stand and start a slow clap. Ideally, the ship was supposed to become _less_ of a frat house when Amaya and Zari hopped on board, but those two look just as entirely amused.

“You heard the badass D.E.O. agent,” Sara says, and this time she does use her captain voice. “Let’s read up, suit up, then head out.”

 

…

 

Alex wants to be the best girlfriend possible. A little difficult when you have to pull the rain check card on dinner dates to follow Supergirl through a breach to Earth-1. Alex compartmentalizes in time to meet Oliver already suited up in green leather. She blinks and she’s right back on Earth-X. The Sturmbannführer of the New Reich is standing right next to Oliver. Alex reaches for her gun.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Oliver shouts, putting himself between Alex and the man. Even Kara whips around, confused and concerned, trying to read the situation. “It’s not him. Alex, it’s not him.”

Alex doesn’t lower her gun, but she does blink a few more times in rapid succession. There’s no all-black outfit marked with evil. No hard, hateful stare. The man blinks back at her and there’s a softness beneath the unrelenting exhaustion. Alex holsters her weapon, trying to separate the man in front of her from the one who had looked at Sara with pure disgust.

“Supergirl, Agent Danvers, this is Deputy Mayor, Quentin Lance.”

Lance?

Alex makes a little choking noise in her throat, hoping she’d heard wrong.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Oliver says, poised to move on. “Half my team is off on another mission and we just got reports of weapons like we’ve never seen before hitting the black market. I can’t be sure, but I have a hunch they’re alien and I thought, who better to ask?”

As Kara and Oliver make their way over to Felicity working diligently, fingers flying across a keyboard, Quentin peers over at Alex. He looks worried about her. He doesn’t have to. They don’t even know each other, but he does. “Can I get you a glass of water, agent?”

“Oh, no.” Alex coughs self-consciously. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Quentin nods and joins Oliver, Felicity and Kara, already in deep discussion. Alex swallows and presses her hand to where her heart is beating hard. Before now, she hasn’t had such a visceral flashback to the horrors she witnessed on Earth-X. It happened so unexpectedly. She’s been counting herself lucky until now.

There’s a major arms deal happening tonight. Green Arrow has his bike. Supergirl can fly to get a better, quicker gauge on the perimeter. That leaves Alex riding with Quentin to the rendezvous spot. Oliver looks at her with a silent question. _You good with this?_ Alex is a professional so she nods. If Oliver trusts him so wholly, Quentin must be far from the same man. He has to be.

When they arrive at the warehouse because of course it’s a warehouse, it seems they missed the deal and it went sideways. Dropped bodies and empty crates are all they have left to go by. As Quentin leans down to inspect the bullet casings scattered on the ground, movement catches Alex’s eye. A gunman takes aim at Quentin, but Alex is faster. She drops the gunman with one pull of the trigger.

“Nice shot.” Quentin almost looks proud as if she’s one of his pupil or his kids or something. Given her own complicated relationship with her father, she doesn’t quite know how to take the compliment. And with J’onn, any praise is almost always professionally cold and nonverbal so this is new.

“Thanks.” Alex kicks the gunman’s weapon out of reach. He’s knocked out, but there’s a pulse. Green Arrow takes point, asking Felicity to comb through available surveillance video and telling them to regroup back at the Arrowcave while he and Supergirl take care of the gunman.

“Dad teach you how to shoot?” Quentin asks on the drive back.

Alex presses her lips into a thin line, remembering the time she pointed a gun at her father, but tells herself to be polite. “No. D.E.O. trained.”

Quentin makes a sound of understanding. “I made sure my girls knew how to protect themselves. God knows they far exceeded anything I could ever teach them. Laurel, she was a lawyer and a damn fine one. Cared about the people, y’know.” His face fractures and she knows to leave it at that. “And Sara.” Quentin grins, overcome with a far different emotion. “She’s a captain now.”

Lance. Sara. Captain.

“Sara Lance is your daughter?” Alex blurts out before she can reel it in.

Quentin looks at her, a bit perplexed, scratching the top of his hairless head. “You know my Sara?”

Oh. She works to keep the extent of that answer off her face.

“We met,” Alex replies tightly, trying to keep her voice steady or at least, not sound like she’s panicking (yet again). “We might have fought together. On the same side. It was a joint effort.”

The smile that lights up Quentin’s face is unlike anything else. How could she have ever thought this man was the same as Earth-X’s? Alex briefly wonders if Jeremiah ever looked like that when he thought or spoke of her.

“Sounds like my Sara alright. I always knew she would end up caring for people, protecting ‘em. Saving the world. Both my girls did.”

“Guys, I’ve located the package,” Felicity says through the comms in both their ears. “It’s on the move.”

“You ready to do this?” Quentin asks, switching gears.

Alex sits up straighter, no longer concerned with anything other than the mission. “Roger that.”

 

…

 

There’s something about seeing Supergirl unconscious in a hospital bed, surrounded by photonucleic lamps that makes Alex feel like her skin is turned inside out. So much of her live has been dedicated to keeping Kara safe so to see her younger sister essentially in a coma feels like failure.

“So this is _your_ lab?”

Alex tears her eyes away from Kara and looks over at the blonde in all-white leather, eyeing the different lab equipment. It’s pretty late. Most of the lab rats have gone home for the night. Even if they were around, they’d probably know to stay out of Alex’s way in a time like this.

“Yeah,” Alex answers. “I work in the field with Kara and the strike team most of the time, but up here too. I studied bioengineering and neuroscience at Stanford.”

“Impressive,” Sara says. “I was held captive by a scientist trying to find a World War II Japanese super serum. Picked up a few things. Nothing on the Amazo was anywhere near as fancy.”

Alex tilts her head as she tries to make sense of that. Coming from anyone else, she’d think it was a lie meant to impress. Coming from Captain Sara Lance, the time traveling assassin, anything goes.

“You don’t have to stick around, you know.” Alex laces her fingers in her lap and tries to keep her leg steady. “I’m sure you have important time-related things to do.”

Sara slumps down into the next chair. “Seeing as my crew accidentally brought this space parasite to your earth, endangering its greatest line of defense, it’s my captain’s duty to see things through. And I couldn’t possibly leave without seeing Supergirl smile.”

Alex shakes her head and lets out a muffled sound.

“I already got confirmation that thing is back to its proper earth and time,” Sara assures her. “Plus, I think the guys are having a good time. Jax said they wanted to see which earth has the superior Big Belly Burger secret menu.”

After a stretch of surprisingly comfortable silence, Alex says, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What was your sister like?”

The question seems to catch Sara by surprise, which is surprising in itself. In the time they’ve known each other, Sara is always cool, untouchable, even when standing in a concentration camp being berated by a Nazi commander who looks exactly like her father. Just the reminder makes Alex shiver. The way Sara pauses, lips slightly parted, eyes across the room, Alex almost takes it back.

“Laurel, she was every parent’s dream. It was _so annoying_.” Sara laughs with mirth as if imagining her sister beside them and how she would react to that. “She was idealistic, hard-working, dedicated her life to standing up for the innocent. Stubborn, could put a positive spin on anything and she had the biggest heart.” Sara grins and it isn’t quite like anything Alex has seen on her before. “Dinah Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world.”

“Were you close growing up?”

“Not at all,” Sara says. “It was strained. We were two years apart and both in love with Oliver Queen.” Alex’s mouth falls open while Sara just looks irked, nostalgic. “ _I know_. But once we got older, we became close. You have a sister. You know what that’s like.”

“I do.” Alex nods once, twice, a third time, looking over at Kara. “When Kara first came to live with us, I was so jealous and I-I was a bitch. I blamed her for things she had no control over. I was a selfish, mean kid. Now, I don’t know what I would do without her. I refuse to have to.”

Sara places her hand over Alex’s and squeezes. “And you won’t.”

“You’re just full of promises you can’t exactly keep, aren’t you?”

“Have I broken a promise yet?” Sara raises an eyebrow.

_We’re not going to let what happened to my sister happen to yours._

Alex purses her lips and looks down to where Sara’s thumb is caressing her knuckles idly. It isn’t remotely sexual. More comforting. Grounding. But when Alex meets Sara’s eyes that are just _so_ _blue_ , it’s clear how easy it’d be for things to escalate.

“Well, it looks like everything is under control here.”

Alex nearly knocks her chair over with how quickly she stands up. Her heart beats loudly in her ears, but doesn’t hide Sara trying to stifle a laugh and failing. Alex looks over at the woman in the doorway like she had just been caught sneaking back into the house after a night out. “Mom!”

“Alex.” Eliza kisses her daughter on the cheek before turning to Sara. “Hello, I’m Eliza Danvers, Kara and Alex’s mother.”

“Sara Lance.” She takes Eliza’s hand. “I see where Alex gets her good looks.”

Alex’s brow furrows when she hears that, followed by Eliza’s surprised, delighted laugh. She thinks about that time Kara thought Mon-El was flirting with their mom. No way.

“Mom, um, S-Sara a-and her team helped take control of the situation and she’s here to help keep Kara safe until she wakes up.” Alex moves over to Kara’s bedside, motioning to the medical monitors with flailing hands. “Kara’s vitals are good, stable, but I’m sure you want to make your own assessment. She’s in what’s essentially a ‘healing coma’ and her cells are regenerating, just slowly. Mom, you didn’t have to drive all the way out here…”

“When you see your daughter falling out of the sky battling a giant space starfish on the local news and race down to wherever she is to help, I expect a full apology,” Eliza says, taking Kara’s wrist to check her pulse. “How did you two meet?”

“A wedding,” Sara replies before Alex can. “Mutual friends.”

“Mom, that’s not important right now,” Alex insists. “We should focus on Kara.”

Eliza whips around to glance from her daughter to her new friend with an, “Of course.”

“You raised two great girls, Eliza,” Sara says. “I’d say you should be super proud.”

“I am. Super proud.”

Just then, Kara starts groaning and shifting in bed. When Kara’s eyes flutter open, Alex is so grateful her sister’s okay and to no longer be alone with Sara and Eliza, she almost says, “Oh thank god” aloud. Scratch that. She definitely says it out loud. Once she recognizes where she is and what happened, Kara sits up quickly, too quickly. Eliza puts a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back down.

“The parasite! Where—What—”

Overcome with relief, both Eliza and Alex practically throw themselves into hugging Kara. She lets herself relax back into the bed when Alex explains that everything is okay.

“Well, now that that’s over,” Kira says, “I am starving!”

“Potstickers from your favorite takeout place coming right up.” Eliza combs a piece of Kara’s hair out of her eyes and turns just in time to catch another blonde trying to make a stealthy getaway. “I know it’s a little late, but you’ll be joining us for dinner, won’t you, Sara?”

“You should!” Kara says enthusiastically. “Our potstickers, _so_ much better than Earth-1. You can tell Cisco I said that.”

Sara winces with one foot already out the door. “I should probably get back…”

“Stay,” Alex says on an exhale. “You were a big help, especially when I was freaking out…again. The least we can do is get you something to eat before sending you off.”

Sara searches Alex’s face for any sign of false politeness slathered over poorly hidden dread, but there is none. She really is grateful. When Sara susses this out for herself, she smiles. “Sure. Why not?”

 

…

 

There’s nothing like a good ol’ fashion softball game to determine once and for all who are the greatest heroes across the multiverse.

Sara’s pleasantly surprised to see Alex in black (of course) yoga pants and tennis shoes. An even more surprising sight is Alex’s newest accessory—a slightly shorter dark-haired woman that just hangs all over her. Pulling on her ex-assassin skill of discretion, Alex casually asks Kara who that is.

“Oh, that’s Maggie.” Kara’s eyes widen and she nods her head as if to imply, _yep, the Maggie._

So much for taking a stellar piece of advice and moving on, Danvers.

She’s hot, Sara will give her that. Petite, but solid in a way that suggests she’s survived some shit and can hold her own. Mick takes one look at her, sniffs the air and says, “I hate cops.”

“Yo.” Jax hangs an arm around Sara’s neck, following her stare across the diamond. “Is that Agent Danvers’ girl? Naw, you could totally take her. Gideon did a Waverider poll and six outta six really get a kick outta watching one of your flings haunt us like this.”

Sara digs her elbow right into Jax’s ribs and gives the little brother she never asked for the trademark _shut up or I’ll rip your eyeballs out and feed them to you, Jax_ stare. Quentin joins them, looking looser out of his usual stiff suit, breathing in the fresh air. It’s the first time she’s seen him in person since her visit to Earth-X. She knows her father isn’t that man, but still, Sara has to dig her nails into her palm to keep from flinching when Quentin tugs on the bill of her Starling City Rockets baseball cap atop her head.

“Are we about to crush those Other Earthers or what?” Quentin asks.

“You know it, sir,” Jax agrees, beating a fist against the palm of his mitt. “Time to rally the troops!”

Jax jogs to where the other Legends are getting reacquainted with Team Arrow, preparing to go up against Team Flash and the Earth-38ers. For fun. And bragging rights. Cisco and Wells rig the field with power suppressors to keep the game fair. It feels like a bad idea if one or a few of their many, many enemies decide to attack, but Cisco assures everyone they could have it shut off in seconds if it came to that and it’s not like they’re playing while suited up. No, they’re wearing custom t-shirts with their team names on them—Legendary Arrows and Super Flashers respectively.

“I met your friend a while back,” Quentin says, taking a practice swing with an old bat.

“Don’t hurt yourself, old man,” Sara teases. “If you haven’t noticed, I have a lot of friends. Not all human, not all from this earth.”

“Agent Danvers. Alex? Kinda skittish, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders and knows her way around a firearm.”

“And certified in over thirty military weapons. Her left hook isn’t bad either.” Sara tears her eyes away from Alex and Maggie putting sunscreen on each other to notice the sly expression on Quentin’s face. “Dad. _No_.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face implied something.”

“I’ll have you know her face when she found out you were my kid implied a lot too.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “You talked to her about me?”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to see you making friends even when you’re traveling through time, protecting the universe and all.” Quentin lays a hand on Sara’s shoulder. It’s a thing he does. She’s convinced it’s to reassure himself she’s here, she’s alive, she’s real.

“Agent Danvers!” Quentin waves Alex and her plus-one over. And maybe his hand on her shoulder is so she can’t escape. Sara steals the bat from him and takes an experimental swing mostly for something to do.

“Deputy Mayor! Please, just call me Alex. And this is my girlfriend, Maggie.”

“Then call me Quentin. None of this Deputy Mayor or Mr. Lance stuff, you saved my ass. And it’s nice to meet you, Maggie.”

“Likewise.”

Alex’s smile thins. “Maggie, this is Sara. Sara, Maggie.”

“Ah, the infamous Maggie,” Sara purrs. “Awkward Hands Danvers told me about you.”

Maggie glances back at her girlfriend amidst Alex doing that adorable, nervous laugh that punctuated most of their first couple days of knowing each other. “Awkward Hands, huh? She did?”

“Well, as much as you can talk between—”

“Fighting Nazis and trying to escape a terrible, terrible earth!” Alex interrupts. Why is her complete lack of chill in uncomfortable social situations so damn adorable?

“You ladies play any ball?” Quentin asks.

“Just in the police department verses fire department annual softball game,” Maggie replies, bouncing on her toes. “Undefeated three years in a row.”

“Cool.” Sara hoists the bat up onto her shoulder and if the motion flexes her well-defined bicep, well, that happens. “I spent a summer as a ball girl for the Starling City Rockets.”

“What are the Starling Rockets?” Alex and Maggie ask simultaneously.

Both Sara and Quentin deadpan. An earth without the SC Rockets? What kind of hellscape?

“Well, good luck, Flashers,” Sara says. “You’re gonna need it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Maggie replies.

Sara walks toward her extended band of misfits with a newly lit competitive fire burning behind her eyes. She prefers to concentrate on the task at hand while ignoring the pleased look on her dad’s face. Seriously, he might be just as bad as her crew.

 

…

 

Alex hadn’t accounted for Sara and the Legends being at this little cross-earth get-together, but she probably should have. She probably set herself up for this one, but it’s not like she could not invite Maggie with Kara jabbering on about it all week. The only thing she can think to do is try to ignore all the weird tension. It works for a while.

Everyone gets a kick out of Barry having to run the bases at normal speed and Cisco not being able to just create a breach that takes him from one base to another. Wally West proves to be great at both batting and running bases. He and Jax seem to get along well with a little healthy dose of trash talk sprinkled in.

After striking out for the second time, Kara comes back to the dugout, looking less than thrilled. “Not being able to use my abilities sucks.” She glances over to her sister, whose eyes are on Maggie at home plate, taking a ball. “What’s with you?”

“What do you mean what’s with me?” Alex asks, nearly biting her fingernails to bits.

“You’ve been squirrelly all day.”

“Oh, you know, just my girlfriend and my wedding hookup from another earth playing a friendly game of softball against each other,” Alex sing-songs with panic. “I’m entitled to be just a little squirrelly!”

Alex looks at her sister, then further down the bench where Caitlin, Iris and a girl named Gypsy (Cisco’s girlfriend from Earth-19, apparently) had to have overheard, all staring. Even Cisco, who’s wearing a helmet, waiting to bat, mutters a, “Damn, girl.” Alex flashes them a nervous smile just as Maggie swings and hits the ball right between first and second base. Jax hustles from right field to grab the ball and throws it to Oliver, keeping Maggie at first.

Alex shifts closer to Kara and lowers her voice. “A drunk hookup at a wedding is fine, you said. Healthy, you said. There was no way this might come back to haunt you.”

Kara lifts a finger. “I never said that last one.”

“Okay, that’s something I told myself.”

“But you’re glad you met Sara, right? In a friend way, I mean.”

Alex looks out to where Sara is playing second base with the sleeves of her shirt folded up to show off her arms and her hair in two braids beneath her hat. She chews pink bubble gum, eyes darting between Cisco batting and Maggie who has a huge lead off of first base. She technically isn’t supposed to lead off, but whatever. Quinten pitches. Cisco swings and misses. Maggie takes off running, trying to steal second. Mick fires the ball from behind home plate to Sara. She catches the ball just as Maggie slides. Sara tags her for the out seconds before Maggie takes Sara’s legs out from beneath her in a cloud of dirt.

Kara winces from the dugout. “That can’t be good.”

 

…

 

Landing on her ass in the dirt, the sudden pain in her calf and a glimpse of Maggie’s smug expression all combined is nearly enough to bring back her bloodlust. Not seriously. But still. For a split second, Sara swears her vision goes red.

“What the hell is your problem?” Sara takes off her glove and throws it, hitting Maggie square on her helmeted forehead.

“You were blocking the bag!”

“Really?” Sara shouts. “That’s your issue with me?”

Maggie takes off her helmet and tries to throws it in retaliation, but Sara manages to grab the other side and shove it so the helmet goes tumbling into the dirt.

“What’s happening?” Dinah Drake asks from the outfield.

Rene Ramirez falls in line beside her with his mitt sitting atop his head. “So! Jax said T.O.C.—The Original Canary—ruined sex with anyone else for the runner’s girl.”

“Damn,” Dinah says. “Legend.”

“Yeah! Fight!” Mick yells. “Get ‘er, boss!”

Before Sara can give in to the urge to punch someone, she’s hauled back to her feet by her father.

“Am I gonna have to make you shake hands like they do in little league?” Quentin asks.

“You gonna beam her at her next at bat like in the Majors?” Sara walks away to cool down, fixing her hat. She glares at Maggie, who’s back on her feet and dusting dirt off of her pants. “You’re out, by the way!”

Maggie grabs her helmet and drags herself back to the dugout, eyes narrowed at the dirt. No one else says anything. They all seem stunned by what happened. Except Mick, who’s loving it. Alex touches Maggie’s arm as she passes by, trying to think of something to say, but Maggie doesn’t look like she wants to hear it and takes a seat at the edge of the bench.

The rest of the game goes by without incident. Joe, Cecille and Baby West arrive with the pizzas just in time to witness an Oliver Queen walk-off home run that ends the game. Cisco turns off the suppressor and Kara slams a couple balls into the next county that Barry and Wally race to retrieve. The rest of the afternoon is spent with gloating and banter and just plain enjoying each other’s company without a breach opening overhead or an alien or assassin attack.

Maggie isolates herself from everyone else. It’s not like she’s the one with bruises on her legs. If Maggie had been wearing cleats and spiked her, there might have been more of a confrontation. If she drew blood and her crew saw, that would have cleared the benches. A softball fight would have been a rare first for the Legends. Maggie is a ticking time bomb, getting ready to blow. Sara’s half tempted to send Mick over.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Quentin warns her. “Right now.”

“I wasn’t,” Sara replies.

Quentin hums into his next bite of pizza. “You don’t think I know you? You always are.”

“Touche.”

She spots Maggie and Alex back by the dugouts. Alex is doing that thing where she talks with her hands. Beautiful hands. Super hearing would be pretty handy right about now.

“Staring isn’t cool,” Quentin says off-handedly. His eyes are closed as he soaks up the late afternoon sun, but there’s an unmistakable grin on his face. “You got it bad, kid.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sara kicks her father’s foot with the side of hers and wraps her arms around his shoulders in a hug. How far they’ve come. How grateful she is that he is nothing like the doppelgänger on Earth-X. After how many times Sara has died, come back to life, disappeared and come home just to disappear again, he just wants her alive and happy. They don’t talk about it, but she knows. Feeling restless, Sara steals one more glance over at the domestic drama before picking up a bat. “Jax! Wally! Either of you know how to play pepper?”

Not because it gets her closer to where Alex is trying to get Maggie to talk and Maggie is not having it. No. Sara just wants to play a game. Whatever they’re talking about ends a moment later anyway. A moment after that, the Earth-38ers disappear into a breach. Sara doesn’t know why she cares. _Nosy_ , she tells herself. But for some reason, seeing Alex Danvers upset, upsets her too.

 

…

 

They break up. Again.

Alex tries to joke that at least no moving boxes are involved this time.

(No breakup sex either.)

Kara breaks out the ice cream and the alcohol and cues up a movie.

 

…

 

She couldn’t have just been grabbed by a straggling White Martian hoping to use her to get to J’onn or his father or some other alien with a grudge against Earth and/or House of El. No, Alex has the misfortune of being grabbed by an asshole who calls himself “The Lord of Time” and actually gets tossed back in time.

 _Just survive. Kara will find you_. That’s what Alex tells herself. And she does.

If she had to guess, she’d say she’s somewhere around Seventeenth Century New England. There’s a fledgling farmhouse two kilometers east and a witch might be living about two hundred paces north.

“Did someone order a timeship?”

She’d recognize that smoky, cool drawl anywhere.

“You’re so proud of yourself, showing up here like some white knight, aren’t you?” Alex asks.

Sara makes a big show of glancing down at her extremely fitted leather suit. “No white knight, _White Canary.”_

That shouldn’t be attractive. Why is that so infuriatingly attractive?

Alex has the perfect rebuttal, but puts it aside when she hears rustling and instincts kick in. She dives, pulling Sara down into a ditch Alex dug herself for cover. “It’s probably that angry man and his poor kid again. They’re searching for someone.”

“You know, I got stuck in Salem for two years once.” Sara blows a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. “Something tells me I had a lot more fun than you did.” Sara glances over at Alex who feels just gross after fending for herself out in the untouched wilderness while Sara looks like she can breach right over to Paris to walk a runway. “Supergirl hauled in the bad guy and asked us to swing a few centuries back to pick you up.”

Alex nods, avoiding Sara’s eyes. “Thanks for this. I owe you.”

“Hey.” Sara lays a hand on Alex’s arm and it’s crazy how disarming one touch can be. When Alex had been lashing out about being earths away with her sister in danger, feeling guilty and blaming herself, Sara had been understanding and supportive when she didn’t have to. Just like now. “Remember what I told you the first time?”

Alex visibly deflates. “Something about my butt?”

Sara smiles and Alex _feels_ , being the reason for it. “You don’t owe me anything. I protect my team. You’re on my team, Danvers. No expiration date. So get used to it already.”

Sara holds out one of her trusty knives and Alex wraps her dirty fingers around the handle. Having a weapon in hand and someone who’s got her back eases some of the anxiety that’s been running high for the last forty-eight hours.

“Let’s get you home,” Sara says. “I’m sure you’re ready to get back to your sister and Maggie.”

“Kara, yes.” Alex presses her lips together as they begin their trudge back to the Waverider. “No Maggie. We broke up. I think for good this time.”

Sara stops so abruptly that Alex walks right into her. The blonde whirls around and the look on her face is so reminiscent of that first night at the bar.

_What? Did you catch him cheating?_

_Uh-uh. Her._

It can only mean trouble.

(Or a great time looming.)

 

…

 

Everyone aboard the Waverider is weirdly accommodating.

Even Mick motions for Alex to walk ahead of him and rumbles what sounds like, “Legends first.”

Alex sits on the edge of a bed, drying her hair after a much needed shower. The crew quarters are sparse, walls bare except for the giant lit screen at her back. Sara saunters in with a beer bottle in each hand.

“I show you the fabrication room, where Gideon can make you literally anything and you go with D.E.O. standard plainclothes and exact replica of your tact suit?” Sara plops down on the bed. “That’s adorable.”

Alex gives her a dry look, taking a large gulp from the offered glass bottle. “Question. Did I get voted honorary Legend? I don’t see how getting thrown through time by a jerk who calls himself the Lord of Time and needing evac pats my resume.”

“Oh, to the crew, you earned your honorary title a long time ago.”

“Punching Nazis? So did a lot of others and I don’t see Mick being as accommodating to them.”

“That was great too, but you earned it a little earlier,” Sara explains, guzzling half her beer in one go. Liquid courage perhaps? Not that Sara is the type to hold back her opinion even sober. “Usually, I’m the one sneaking out of bed, sometimes running, to leave on my timeship. No one sneaks out on me.”

“Ah.” Alex knows she shouldn’t feel a swell of pride at hearing Sara admit that, but she does. Oh, she does. “I knew you were being salty outside the church! And in front of my sister!”

“What can I say? I’m only human.”

“It feels like so long ago.” Alex reclines back, parallel to Sara. The bed isn’t that big, but it feels like heaven compared to the makeshift shelter she made in the rolling hills of 1630.

“So, you and Maggie broke up, huh? I hope it wasn’t because of the stupid softball thing.”

“No, other things, though that didn’t help,” Alex confesses. Now it’s her turn to wash away the nerves with beer. “She said I changed. Fighting Nazis on other earths does that. But it didn’t change my mind on a certain other thing, the reason we originally broke up…I…I want kids someday. I want to be a mom. She doesn’t. And that’s where we hit a brick wall every time.”

Sara whistles. “That’s a pretty huge brick wall.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sara tilts her head, looking at her appraisingly. “Yeah, I see that.”

“See what? My stubborn inability to compromise?”

“You mom-ing. You were ready to seize a rebel base to get back to Kara. You’d rip a portal in the universe with your bare hands to save your sister. I’d say your mom set a pretty high bar and poor future tiny Danvers will never get away with anything _ever_ , but, yeah, I see it.”

Alex chuckles, feeling warm from the mental image or maybe the beer. “Ever thought about it? Kids?” Alex pales. “Wow. That’s such a personal question. You don’t have to answer that.”

Sara shrugs a shoulder. “Never really thought about it, no. Laurel, she would’ve made a great mom. Head bitch of the PTA, all pleased with herself, driving a minivan.” A wide smile stretches across Sara’s face. “Of course, I’d assume the role of Cool Aunt Sara, giving the kids throwing knives on single digit birthdays and teaching them how to fight bullies, keep boys in line, talk to beautiful women.”

Her eyes smolder and Alex has to look away. “You just snuck that right in there, didn’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Sara rasps.

Alex leans in first. After last time, she has to be the one who initiates. That’s what she tells herself. Sara hums encouragingly, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Her touch is warm, light, hesitant compared to last time that was just nonstop give and take. Sara, hot, responsive, intense Sara didn’t hesitate last time. And Alex knows she fucked it up a long time ago, but the circumstances have changed (sort of), Alex has changed and she wants to show that.

“Whoa, easy.” Sara backs off the moment Alex starts to feel brave, _needs_ to feel more, and slips her hand beneath Sara’s shirt, finding endless skin and _those abs_. “Are you sure? Because last time, you were horrified and couldn’t look me in the eye after. I won’t be your distraction again. Distractions get people killed.”

“Sara, that w-was—none of that was about _you_. It was _me_. I-I was mad at myself, never you.”

“And now?”

That’s the question, isn’t it?

Alex meets her eyes with zero hesitation. “I’m not ashamed of wanting what I want anymore.”

And that’s all the answer Sara needs.

 

…

 

When Sara twists and arches her back, yanking on the belt beneath her and tossing it to the floor, Alex catches sight of the scars on her otherwise perfect back. It’s dark except for the HD screen, frozen on a photo of a serene island, emitting light that makes their skin look blue. Alex doesn’t even think, doesn’t even consider the fact that Sara can break her hand in a dozen different ways, when she lets her fingers trace over one of the scars. It says a lot about the kind of person Sara is, the control she has, when she doesn’t snap.

“Tell me about them,” Alex whispers.

Sara turns so they’re face-to-face, tugging the standard issued bedsheets up beneath her arms. “Maybe another night.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Her?”

“Your Maggie.”

Sara purses her lips and for a moment, Alex things she’s going to shoot this down as well. Her blue eyes are fixed on Alex’s hand limp between them as she starts to trace over the lines across her palm. “She could seem cold, which just comes with the assassin thing, and full of pain. Because of her family. Because of me. But she cared deeply about the things and the people she believed in.”

“You don’t go back to her because?”

“Complicated,” Sara replies.

Alex doesn’t push, rather leans over and just barely brushes her lips over Sara’s. “Thank you for telling me.”

Without breaking the kiss, Alex nudges Sara’s thighs apart so she can fit between them.

 

…

 

“What the hell are we doing in 1780?” Sara charges into the bridge with her ass-kicking boots on.

She was having a wonderful, _wonderful_ morning up until she remembered her crew of _children_ have no respect for authority, including that of their captain. Alex _giggling_ when Sara woke up in a panic, not knowing what year they were even in, did not help, but it was pretty adorable.

“Morning, boss, Agent Danvers! Uh, we just had a little Hamilton situation,” Jax replies. “Don’t worry, Amaya, Zari and Ray got it handled. From the sound of it, things are going…as well as they usually go with us.”

“Terribly wrong, but there’s hope we pull it off in the end?” Sara massages the space between her brows. “Why did no one wake me up?”

Jax motions toward Alex with his eyebrows. “Gideon took another Waverider poll and we voted to let you sleep in. You’re always taking care of everyone and everything. We figured you could take a couple hours off.”

Nate raises his hand, again like a history nerd schoolboy. “For the record, I volunteered to take one for the team and pop into your quarters to wake you up.”

“And was outvoted,” Gideon adds. “Rightly so.”

“I, for one, appreciate the hospitality aboard the Waverider,” Alex pipes in brightly.

“I bet it was _legendary_.” Nate wiggles his eyebrows, equal parts questioning and suggestive.

Alex shifts her lips from side to side, then replies, “Definitely. Definitely legendary.”

Nate and Jax exchanged glances like middle school boys who just found out lesbian porn is a thing. It’s payback for outside of the church, Sara’s sure.

“Danvers, don’t feed the animals.” Sara shoulders into her playfully. “I need coffee. I want a status update every ten. Be prepared if they need backup. The second they’re back on the ship, we’re bringing Agent Danvers back to 2018. I will be in the galley. And, Gideon, no more Waverider polls without captain authorization.”

“Noted, Captain Lance,” Gideon responds.

“Yo, Sara, you can’t do that!” Jax calls out after her. “We gotta get our kicks where we can, man!”

“O Captain! My Captain!” Nate shouts. “Teach me your ways!”

Sara gives both of them her most menacing glare, Nate more so than Jax, before touching Alex’s elbow and guiding her out of the room. Of course they pass Mick on their mission to obtain caffeine and when he notices them, he stops, stares and says four words.

“You hit that _again_?”

Before Sara can smack him upside the head again, Alex grins, “She did. _Three times_ last night.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “And once we woke up.”

A smirk crawls across Mick’s mouth. He holds out his fist for a bump. Sara smacks him lovingly upside the head instead.

 

_…_

 

“What’s the ship made out of? What’s it like? You time traveled! That’s so cool!”

“Okay, Winn, there’s plenty of time to geek out later.” Kara uses an arm to create space between an overexcited Winn and Alex who had barely gotten her feet on solid ground. “Let the woman breathe.”

“Welcome back, Agent Danvers.” J’onn’s smile is much warmer than his voice. “Straight to the med bay before debriefing.”

“J’onn,” Kara nearly whines. “She just got back.”

“And she needs to be looked over for any lingering side effects of time travel,” J’onn says matter-of-factly. “You call it overly cautious. I call it protocol.”

“On my way,” Alex says, a little surprised the words don’t come out in French.

Alex heads up to the medical bay with Kara hovering, her eyes bright with concern. “Alex, you had me so worried! Again! The last time I saw you, you were being thrown through some random breach! Granted, it was only like minutes ago to me—”

“Kara.” Alex grabs onto her sister’s arm to steady and quiet her. “I’m fine. Well, other than feeling like everything around me is still moving…”

“We’re in an elevator,” Kara points out.

“It’s a complicated feeling to try to explain.” Alex walks out of the elevator ahead of her sister, pulling off her black long-sleeve sweater, a black tank top underneath.

“Alex, what happened to you?” Kara grabs her arm and turns her for a better look at the molten purple bruise on her shoulder with more of them marking the column of her neck.

“Oh! Oh! That!” Looking more sheepish than outright horrified, Alex holds her sweater to her chest, trying to cover up. “It’s not what it looks like.” Her mouth falls open, trying to find the words. “Not trapped in the seventeenth century related or time travel related. More…Sara related.”

The worry on Kara’s face is quickly replaced with soaring high spirits. “You. Didn’t. _Again_???”

Alex falls back against the hallway wall with a big grin of her own. “Healthy, single, fun, right?”

“Right.” Kara nods repeatedly, so much like a little sister proud of her big sister who’s kind of as dorky as she is. “But still, I’m totally fine with not knowing the specifics.”

“They’re really good specifics like _really._ ”

“Put that back on before someone gets the wrong idea and throws you into quarantine,” Kara teases, smacking Alex on the arm with the sleeve of her sweater. “Sara, the sassy assassin, huh?”

“Sara," Alex sighs her name. "And ex-assassin. Maybe Maggie had a point. Maybe it’s worth exploring before…”

Kara nods, supportive and happy to have her sister back. That protectiveness and anxiety when the other is in danger clearly mutual. Look how far they’ve come from Midvale. Kara throws her deceptively slim arms around Alex in a tight hug and escorts her the rest of the way to med bay.

 

_…_

 

“We’ve got an SOS distress call from Earth-1,” Winn reports.

“What’s wrong?” Supergirl sweeps into the room with her red cape billowing behind her. “Who needs help? The Flash? Green Arrow?”

“Sara. It’s…It’s for Alex.”

Alex, who’d been bent over a tablet, almost drops it. The information does not compute. Captain Sara Lance is one of the toughest, most competent people she knows. Sara is cool under pressure, skilled beyond compare in combat and tactical situations. Sara doesn’t get hurt. Sara doesn’t die.

She’s through a breach within seconds and when did she become this person who drops everything to aid someone from another earth and all without Kara leading the way? Around the time the world’s most perfect couple tried to get married.

When she lands in the Arrowcave, Oliver and Felicity are there to greet her. The mood is somber. A quick inventory of her surroundings and Sara is nowhere in sight. The expressions on Oliver and Felicity’s faces and the funeral-like atmosphere put Alex on edge.

“What’s the situation?” Alex asks.

Oliver Queen, with his scruff and his glazed eyes tries to find the words. “For some time now, we’ve had a criminal meta from Earth-2 terrorizing the city. She called herself Black Siren. She is— _was_ Laurel’s doppelgänger.”

Alex feels her throat close up, but she manages to whisper, “Sara’s sister.”

Oliver runs his hand down the length of his face. “I should have taken care of it sooner. I let it go on too long. Too many innocent lives were lost and by her hands because I got caught up in my own personal problems—”

Felicity squeezes his arm to stop him. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for prioritizing your son and—”

“Sara should not have been the one to do it!” Oliver shouts. His voice echoes. That flash of anger is quickly replaced with regret. When Felicity wraps her arms around him, he just falls into her. The grief is palpable. Have these people not grieved enough?

“Where is Sara?” Alex asks.

“Back through there.” Felicity nods toward the far side of the dark, moody base. “The fight took a lot out of her. She’s…She’s not herself right now…”

Who would be in this situation?

When Alex was at her most stressed, her most afraid and lashing out because of it, Sara had been there with understanding in her soft eyes and firm words. It’s time to return the favor or at least try.

The bathroom in the far back of the Arrowcave is all stark white subway tiles in contrast to the rest of the place. Sara’s expandable batons are discarded on the floor. Her thick, blonde hair is matted with sweat, dirt and blood. There’s even more blood crusted on her ears, splattered across her White Canary suit. The strong, steady Captain Sara Lance is curled up and huddled in the corner, staring blankly forward. Sara doesn’t react to Alex’s slow, intentionally loud approach.

Alex doesn’t know what to say. Kara is the empathic one, sunshine personified that can brighten anyone’s day. Alex doesn’t know what to do. It’s not like she can treat this like a mission, some tactical takedown. Not that Sara looks like she’s in any condition to have deep, meaningful conversation. Alex follows her instincts and sinks to the floor, in arm’s reach, but no closer.

“It’s ironic,” Sara croaks, her voice barely there. “Laurel brought me b-back to life and I…I killed her.”

“Sara, that wasn’t Laurel,” Alex says firmly. She isn’t sure of much, but she is sure of that. “Black Siren might have had your sister’s face, but she wasn’t. She hurt people. The Laurel you knew would never. You had to stop her before she hurt anyone else. You did what you had to do, Sara.”

“I know,” Sara hisses the words through a clenched jaw. Her shoulders tremble, but she doesn’t let a single tear fall. “I _know_. But it doesn’t feel that way…”

When Sara begins to cry in earnest, the second she lifts a hand, Alex is there, wrapping her up in her arms and holding her close as her body starts to shake harder. Sara unravels and Alex doesn’t know what to do or say, but she’s here, open to whatever Sara might need. They could be sitting there for seconds, hours. The combination of grief and guilt and not knowing why you feel either is a perfect storm.

After some time, Alex calls it. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The ache in her joints is her only clue as to how long they’ve been huddled together on the floor. Alex gets the water started in the glass shower stall and has to support most of Sara’s weight. Sara’s eyes are red and swollen, her stare vacant, knees threatening to give out. The water runs red at their feet. The blood imbedded deep in the white leather of her suit fades, but traces of it remain.

“Laurel, sh-she’s the one who s-said, be a-a hero in the light…b-be the White Canary…” Her throat is raw from crying, voice hoarse. Sara starts clawing at her suit. She wants it off _now_. Alex is sure to keep her touch clinical as she helps Sara out of the suit, leaving her namesake in a wet pile on the floor.

Digging through a nearby locker of clothing, the last thing Alex wants to put on her body or Sara’s is an Oliver Queen for mayor 2016 sweater with his face on it and everything, but that’s all they have to work with along with plain gray sweatpants. By then, Sara is more responsive, wringing the water out her hair and stepping into clothes. She’s barely going through the motions, though. Every time Alex glances over, she tries to check Sara for any wounds that might need attention. Sara sure as hell isn’t being vocal about any. Understandably. She’s numb.

When they leave the bathroom, steam billowing out after them, Quentin is waiting with tear tracks down his cheeks. He rushes up to Sara and welcomes her into his arms. She mumbles into his shoulder, things meant for his ears and his alone. It’s hard to watch. Heartbreaking.

“It’s not your fault,” Quentin reassures her in his own rough mumble. “It’s not your fault, baby. It’s mine. I’m sorry. I should’ve done it a long time ago. It’s on me. I wasn’t strong enough. You’re stronger than I could ever be…”

With tears stinging at the back of her eyes and an ache in her throat, Alex feels like she’s intruding. She distances herself, but not before she catches Quentin’s gaze. He gives her a nod, something like gratitude. Alex nods back and leaves them to grieve in peace.

 

…

 

Sara takes a break.

The Legends really do need her. She’s their leader, but no one is going to argue with the woman who had to put down the evil doppelgänger of her murdered sister. No one was about to deny her time off, time to herself to pick up the pieces yet again. The thing is, Sara takes her sabbatical on Earth-38 and Alex has to find out months after the night in the Arrowcave from Kara who heard it from Barry who overheard Cisco the last time he touched base with Jax.

Apparently Cisco made Sara an interdimensional extrapolator like the one he made for Kara and of course there’s a tracker on it. That’s how Alex ends up in some dive bar about fifteen minutes away from her apartment. Sara had been _fifteen minutes_ away this whole time and she had no idea.

Sara fits the bartender guise nicely, pouring drinks, popping bottles, running a rag over the bar backlit by neon lights. A dark-haired man who probably has had one too many to drink, tries to flirt with her. For a split second, Alex thinks it’s Maxwell Lord, but the closer she gets, the more the resemblance fades. Thank God. What a mess that would be.

“What can I get ya?” Sara asks, like Alex is any other customer. For a moment, she wonders if this isn’t actually Sara, but Earth-38 Sara and now she’s about to make an ass out of herself in front of two of them, which is already two too many.

“Scotch,” Alex says smoothly.

“What are we forgetting tonight?” Sara fills a shot glass in one smooth pour.

“Everything that sucks.”

Sara looks away with a weak laugh. “That’s a tall order.”

Alex doesn’t break eye contact even as she knocks back the shot fast. “Cut the bullshit, Sara. What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were here? Where have you been living? How did you even get a job on this earth?”

“I wasn’t aware I needed an interdimensional green card.” Sara refills the glass and drinks the shot herself. “Hanging out. Because. I have a car. And I’ve got loads of bartending experience.”

“All the places you bartended probably don’t exist on this earth.”

Sara shrugs her shoulders and even that is cool. “You’ve never lied on a resume, have you?”

“When’s the last time you were in contact with your dad?”

Direct hit to Sara’s highest wall. _Boom_. Her face turns dead serious. “You know something? Is he okay?”

Alex slips her hand into the back pocket of her dark jeans and pulls out a simple white envelope. She puts it on the scuffed bar. “For some reason, he figured I’d see you again before he did.”

Sara stares at the envelope, no expression on her face. Sara Lance has always been hard to read, especially when she doesn’t want to be read.

“You shouldn’t be living out of a car,” Alex says. “I have a couch. So does Kara, if you prefer.”

Sara traces over her name in her dad’s handwriting with the tip of her finger. “I close tonight.”

“I’ll wait.” Alex takes it upon herself to fill her glass. No awkward hands tonight.

When they get back to her place well after midnight, it strikes Alex that she hasn’t shared her bed with anyone since Maggie. Not even just to sleep. Not even Kara. The streak remains alive when Sara is pretty determined to sleep on the couch for some reason they don’t discuss. They do discuss a lot of other things. Sara tells her about the Queen’s Gambit, Lian Yu, the Lazarus Pit, and bloodlust. In return, Alex tells her about Jeremiah, Stanford, flight 237, and Astra. They talk late into the night and early into the morning, eventually falling asleep on the couch together.

When Alex wakes up, Sara is still there ( _she stayed_ ), opening the envelope from her dad. A Starling City Rockets sticker lands in her palm.

 

…

 

“You D.E.O. agents and Head CatCo Guy are pretty well connected, right?” Sara asks, twirling a wooden staff like it weighs nothing. They don’t allow real weapons in the D.E.O. training room, which is a bummer, but this will do. “Think you could introduce me to Lois Lane? I’ve been reading her articles and that assertive language, I like that.”

Sara sees Alex in her peripheral and she’s less than amused. Never gets old.

“She’s taken. _So_ taken,” James says with a huge smile. Now there’s a fine piece of man with a bulging moral compass. “But I’d _pay_ to see you try.”

Winn pops his head into the room. “Jimmy, we’ve got a Guardian situation.”

“Right this second? And miss the show that’s about to go down? The junior agents described watching these two spar as a religious experience.” James motions between Sara and Alex, who try not to let it get to their heads or at least, show on their faces. “Alright, fine. Alex, show her who’s boss in National City.”

James gives Alex a fist bump of support before heading for the door.

“Winn!” Sara shouts before he can duck out. “When am I going to get you on the mats again?”

“Yeah, how about never again ever?” Winn frowns, probably thinking about the last time Sara talked him into sparring. Tons of fun for her. Less for him. “Wow, it’s crazy how they give just about anyone D.E.O. security clearance these days.” Winn flashes a grin and sprints out the door, maybe the fastest he’s ever run in his life, leaving Sara and Alex with the whole room to themselves.

Sara narrows her eyes at his retreating back. “He knows I’m a ruthless ex-assassin and I can kill him ten different ways with just the space bar plucked off his keyboard, right?”

“Winn does have a point,” Alex argues. “If you’re going to use the facilities, the least you can do is lend a hand once in a while. Gotta admit, your skill set leans a little closer to protecting earth rather than pouring drinks.”

“Hey, I don’t knock your profession.” Sara exchanges the staff for a rubber training knife, prowling toward Alex in the center of the mat. “Might I remind you that I’m only here because you invite me to train.”

Alex rolls her shoulders, hands ready just incase Sara is feeling cute and launches a surprise strike. She’s a quick learner. “I can admit there’s a lot I could learn from you on the mat.”

“Oh, you have no idea, Agent Danvers.”

There’s a bit of bite to every one of Alex’s jabs. Mostly because she knows Sara can take it. Sara was taught to fight smart, aim for parts of the body most vulnerable, no wasted motion. Alex doesn’t hold back. She uses her speed, lands a hit and then she’s out of reach. The more they spar, the better they get at measuring each other, _knowing_ each other.

Sara doesn’t really know what’s between them, but it’s definitely a _thing_. Taking the couch didn’t work out, not when Alex started hyperventilating in the middle of the night, thrashing under the sheets. Sara crawled into bed with her, met her eyes, held her, whispered, _“I get those too.”_ They’re yet to define their relationship and it’s surprising Alex isn’t chomping at the bits to, but Sara lives in the moment. In the moment, she’s rolling away before Alex’s fist meets her liver.

“Really?” Alex breathes hard as they reset, sizing each other up from a distance. “You’re an ex-assassin. You should have me on my back every time.” Sara cocks an eyebrow and watches how Alex refuses to be flustered. “You don’t think I can tell when you’re holding back?”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Alex.”

Big assumption. Big mistake.

“Oof!” Sara winces as Alex slams her down on the mat, holding a training knife to the delicate skin of her neck. Sara relaxes, sprawled out, more lazy than winded. “Yield.”

“Either someone’s out of practice or distracted.” Alex holds out a hand and helps Sara to her feet.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re just good?” Sara asks, smoothing her thumb over Alex’s wrapped knuckles.

Alex glances down at their hands, then back up. “Out of practice it is.”

Sara circles around with an exasperated sound, reverse 180 spinning the knife in her hand just to see the _showoff_ in Alex’s narrowed eyes. Before Alex can even brace herself, Sara strikes and has her on her back with her arms caught beneath her. Sara straddles her, shifting just a little, her thighs trapping Alex’s hips. As Sara leans forward, she applies just a little more pressure to her arm against Alex’s throat. “First I’m the distraction then I’m distracted. Make up your mind.”

Alex lets it go on, but only for a second. “Yield.”

Sara does with a throaty chuckle, sure to push her hips down first as she gets up. The sound Alex makes is better than music. Sara finds her rubber knife again, twirling it in one hand, giving Agent Danvers a moment to recollect herself. When Alex blinks her eyes open, Sara takes mercy on her and holds her hand out. Alex, who can be very much by the book, yanks Sara down. Alex makes one last attempt to pin her, rolling them off the mats, Sara’s head thumping hard into the wall.

“That’s a pretty dirty move for such a straight-laced government agent,” Sara teases, reaching back to rub at her head. Alex rocks forward with laughter, bringing their lips inches away. “Nice. Awkward Hands.”

“Okay, why?” Alex asks. “Why do you call me that?” She glances up at the florescent lights lining the ceiling. “I know I may not be as experienced as you…but it’s not like I hear you complaining—”

“Alex,” Sara says gently, sitting up with her back against the wall. She waits until Alex meets her eyes and takes a calming breath. “ _Sssara! I knew that!”_ The ex-assassin imitates Alex’s nervous laughter, flicking her hands around. “ _How are you? Lovely, perfect day for a wedding!”_

 _“_ I did not! I do not do that!” Alex rests her head on Sara’s thigh, smiling into the skin there.

“Then there was the S.T.A.R. Labs which was like…” Sara clasps her hands together. _“Punching Nazis so satisfying!”_ Sara flails her hand. “ _No, yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I’m good._ Also, s _hould we_ _? It's a—It's a hug thing! Okay!”_ Alex grabs at Sara’s hands mostly so she’ll stop. Sara brings Alex’s hands to her lips. “Your awkward hand gestures are beautiful just like the rest of you.”

Alex presses her hand into the floor for leverage, leaning up for a kiss.

“Um, excuse me, Agent Danvers…” They both look over to find a very nervous junior agent looking all around the room except at them. Alex jolts up in her attempt to establish work-appropriate personal space. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but, um, you’re needed in the lab.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Sara remains slumped against the wall. “Go save the world, Agent Awkward Hands.”

Alex recovers and lets herself grin when it’s just the two of them. “I expect dinner on the table when I get home tonight.”

“Pizza or bust!”

 

…

 

The next time they end up at a wedding, it ends like the first and yet, not at all. No one they actually know is in the wedding party so the success rate is a tad higher.

It’s a celebrity wedding between a pop princess and a woman publicly out as an alien. The death threats poured in, from bigoted humans and extraterrestrials threats alike, so much so the D.E.O. stepped in. Alex personally heads the security detail and they need all the help they can get so she asks Sara to lend a hand. Sara won’t admit it, but she’s bored. Bartending doesn’t give her the same sense of fulfillment.

“What?” Sara asks, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Something on my chest?”

“No.” Alex looks away and goes back to cataloging their surroundings and checking for suspicious behavior. “The D.E.O. tact suit is a big jump from White Canary.”

Sara runs her hands down the all-black material. “This isn’t the flashiest of my mission disguises.”

“Looks good on you,” Alex whispers.

“Uh, guys,” comes Winn’s disembodied voice. “Open comms mean we can hear everything.”

“On purpose,” Sara adds. “The things we do for you, Winn.”

“West wing is clear,” Alex says sharply.

Various D.E.O. agents stationed around the venue sound off. As Sara starts to pace, Alex steals a moment to look at the happy couple standing with the celebrant. There’s so much outside pressure trying to keep them apart yet none of that seems to change how they look at each other.

It’s crazy to think she was so close to having that and already it feels like a lifetime ago.

“You’ll get there one day,” Sara says softly. “No rush. Trust me, I’m a time expert.”

Alex can feel Sara’s thumb ghost up and down her spine even through layers of protective material and it makes her shiver. She almost forgets where she is until the next room explodes with cheers as the happy couple kiss. Everyone can breathe a little easier. Maybe she can forgive that moment of unprofessionalism, but just this once.

The newlyweds are so grateful that they insist the D.E.O. agents stick around and enjoy themselves at the reception. Sara gets that mischievous grin on her face at the mention of an open bar. Even in plainclothes, Alex is still on high alert, playing look out. This is supposed to be the best day of their lives and it doesn’t end at the nuptials. Sara, on the other hand, smiles freely, so much lighter than a few months, even a few weeks ago. How she bounces back after so much has happened to her, is a testament to her character. She really is awesome.

Sara slides onto the next barstool with a bottle of Scotch she pilfered. “What is with this earth? Do you realize I haven’t witnessed nor partaken in a single bar fight since I’ve been here? Bar fights are like, the Legends’ calling card. We had one an era _at least_.”

“Sounds like you miss them,” Alex says. The blonde makes a face as she pours herself a shot. She fills a second before Alex can interject, “No drinking on the job.”

“I believe we’ve been relieved of our duties for the night.” Sara tosses back that first shot and the second in scary succession. “Why? Ya scared? I thought no one drinks Alex Danvers under the table.”

“Oh, no one does. 2012 Alex would definitely take your bait—”

“Things you probably shouldn’t tell a time traveler.”

“—but I don’t think I want to forget tonight.”

Sara nods with understanding in her eyes and it isn’t fake understanding she uses to get laid. In the time Alex has known her, Sara has been nothing short of genuine. It’s one of the many things that struck her repeatedly ever since Earth-X. Sara is the definition of cool, but she also cares when she doesn’t have to. That’s Sara.

In two swift, graceful moves, Sara procures two flutes of champagne off a waiter and sits back down. “But you have to toast the happy couple.”

“That I do.”

“Should we do the thing where we entwine our arms?”

Alex smacks her palm against her face. “That got so sloppy so fast.”

“That was all you, by the way,” Sara says, pouring another shot.

Alex laughs and it feels good to just be in the moment. “No way. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”

“You definitely initiated it,” Sara argues. “And I rolled with it because I found you _adorable_.”

Alex scrunches her face. “Why do you have to make such a cutesy word sound so suggestive?”

“It’s part of my charm, if you haven’t noticed.”

Glasses start clinking from all around the room, prompting the happy couple to share a kiss. The toasts start soon after. Unlike the West-Allen soiree, Alex and Sara manage to make it through the father’s speech and drink to future success and prosperity. Before the microphone is handed off, they’re out in the hallway, Alex pinned between a time traveling captain and a wall. Their kisses are less rushed, but just as intense. The air is electrically charged, full of the sweetest deja vu.

“You joining the D.E.O.,” Alex gasps between kisses. “Not my greatest idea…”

“Yeah?” Sara sucks Alex’s earlobe between her lips, then bites. “Why’s that?”

“M’so unprofessional around you,” Alex replies, earning a throaty chuckle. “And I don’t even care.”

 

…

 

Alex tries to catch her breath, feeling boneless and satisfied in a way that exceeds everything she thought possible. Sara’s arm is wrapped around her middle, just below her breasts, holding on tighter than usual. Alex’s heavy eyes take in Sara’s pensive expression, so deep in thought, earths and eras away.

“What are you thinking about?” Alex asks.

Sara catches her spying and smiles. “The future.”

“Isn’t the point of having a timeship that you have all the time in the world?”

“Maybe.” The far-off look returns. “The work we do is important, but then I think about the Professor. He had family waiting and so much more he wanted to do… Amaya and Zari have to go back to their times. Ray has future soccer dad written all over him. Nate, Jax, Mick. How long until they need something more permanent? Then where does that leave me?”

“You could always come here,” Alex suggests. She tries not to, but the hope seeps through her voice, her eyes. “Trade in your frat house in the sky for alien laser pistols.”

Sara hums, tracing over Alex’s cheek with her thumb. “I do look good in the tact suit, don’t I?”

Alex pretends to have to think about it. “I’d say, at this point, now that I know a little more about you than just how you look naked…” Alex tilts her chin down, giving her best dramatic look. “ _Beautiful, by the way_.” Sara beams at the words and Alex likes that she gets to see it. “I don’t know if the multiverse would like it, but I don’t really care.”

“That’d be cool with you? Me, around, for more than one night?”

Alex breathes out and shuffles closer. “There was so much I wanted—I thought I wanted—before it was even clear to myself who I am, the kind of person I want to be. Right when I thought I figured it out, everything fell apart and then we met at a wedding rehearsal dinner of all places and you scared the crap out of me, Sara. I mean, I _freaked out._ ”

“Beautifully,” Sara adds cheekily.

She smiles, but it’s a dim one. “I still regret a lot of how I treated you.”

“Life’s too short.” Sara lets her feather-soft touch trail down Alex’s collarbone, ever the distraction and unapologetic. “I feel you definitely made up for it, twice, at least _three_ times by now.”

Alex nearly vaults up in bed. “You heard that?”

“I’m League trained. It comes with the territory.” Sara reaches up to comb her fingers through Alex’s dark hair. “I was never offended or anything. I’ve got pretty thick skin. I knew it was all stepping stones to figuring your shit out.”

“And, even now, I’m still figuring it out. It’s a very day-to-day thing.”

“As it should be.” The hand around Alex’s waist dancing over her ribcage through the thin sheet and she makes no move to push Sara away, not this time, never again. “We did this a little backwards, didn’t we? Drunk wedding sex, trauma bonding, meet the parents, timeship sex, more trauma bonding, first date.”

“Totally normal,” Alex says with a fond smile.

“That’s what you want?” Sara’s eyes turn hard, serious. "Alex, all those things you wanted from Maggie, honestly, I’m not sure I can give you that. Not now, anyway. So if you want to split now rather than later…”

“I don’t know,” Alex whispers, meeting her eyes just as intently. “I do know I want this. I want you.”

“That’s how we roll,” Sara echoes, a happier note to her voice as she leans in until their lips touch. Without breaking the kiss, Sara shifts over, sliding a knee between Alex’s legs. “What’d you say? We topping a personal best tonight?”

Alex smiles into the kiss, deepening it, nipping at Sara’s pretty lips.

 

…

 

Only days later, Sara goes back to another time while Alex stays on her earth, but at this point, neither is naive enough to believe it’s the end or this might ever end.

 

…

 

Orange leaves swirl across the pavement. It’s a chilly, fall day on Earth-38. And absolutely perfect.

The way Quentin looks around at everything, just amazed, makes Sara realize in all the time she spent on this earth, she never really took the time to explore. No point in enjoying your surroundings when all you’re doing is trying to escape everything, hiding out in some dive bar. Quentin looks so blown away by everything you could probably find on Earth-1. He also looks very comfy in a soft knit sweater.

“Are you sure we don’t have to bring anything?” Quentin asks. “I’m sure we could find pie somewhere. Is money the same on this earth?”

“Dad, relax.” Sara threads her arm through his, tugging him down the sidewalk toward Kara’s apartment. “I’m told Eliza’s pie is the best in the galaxy. It’s just dinner. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” he questions, aghast. “Might I remind you the last time I had a sit down dinner with someone you were dating, it was _Oliver Queen_? Forgive me for wanting things to go smoothly now that you’re getting serious with someone with a gun and badge.”

Sara finds it hard not to smile, hugging his arm close. “You aren’t going to do that dad thing where you _try_ to embarrass me, right?”

“You bet your ass I am.” Quentin leans over to kiss the top of her head.

Kara’s apartment is bright, full of natural light with festive pops of orange everywhere. Alex answers the door and it’s stupid how much Sara wants to just kiss her in front of Kara’s Kryptonian god, their parents, the turkey already on the dinner table that looks stone cold raw. On her latest adventure through time, she turned down a mermaid, _a mermaid_ for Supergirl’s awkward older sister. And she doesn’t regret it one bit.

Alex greets Quentin first, sparing Sara a playful glance. _Oh, it’s on, Danvers_. Sara is more than a little surprised when Eliza pulls her into a warm hug, but she goes with it. She was half-convinced (worried) the woman would think she’s a homewrecker and spend the night comparing her to Maggie.

“Sara!” Kara bounces over, wearing her usual, glasses and a dress that makes her look like a doll.

“Hey, my first favorite Danvers,” Sara smirks.

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you…” Kara lets her voice trail off, slowly, but surely putting space between them and where Alex is introducing Quentin to her mom and J’onn.

“Is this the part where you tell me if I hurt your sister you’ll flay me with your laser eyes?” Sara asks.

“Heat vision, not laser eyes. That’s ridiculous,” Kara says, fixing her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “And you just took all the fun out of it. I hope you’re proud.”

Sara glances over in time to see Alex laugh at something Quentin said and feels the pull toward her. “If I ever do anything as monumentally stupid as that, feel free to come after me with all you’ve got, but I can’t promise my training won’t kick in. Blame muscle memory.”

“The fact that you even think you have a _chance_ against me is _so_ Earth-1.”

Sara pulls Kara into a one-armed hug before going over to say hi to J’onn, who wasn’t too fond of Sara’s preference for giving orders rather than following them during her short stint with the D.E.O. Not that Sara cares what he thinks of her, but she knows Alex cares and she cares about Alex so.

“Hey.” Alex kisses Sara square on the lips. “How was 1939?”

“Slippery.” Sara hugs Alex around the waist and nearly groans at the fresh, familiar scent of her. She missed touching her, holding her, just looking at her and screw Mick and Nate for suggesting she ask for nudes ‘that transcend space and time.’ Assholes. Both of them. “So, you’re kissing me…in front of your mom…and you don’t taste like alcohol. Is this going to be a thing?”

“Well, yeah, I hope so. As someone with a track record of repressed feelings and drinking too much at family gatherings, I thought I’d break that tradition considering…” Alex peeks over Sara’s shoulder in time to catch Quentin’s reaction to Kara cooking the turkey with her _heat vision_ (totally laser eyes), a grin on his face and a lime and tonic in his hand. “He looks really happy.”

“I haven’t seem him this happy in a long time,” Sara murmurs. “And he _adores_ you.”

Alex balks. “I pulled a gun on him the first time we met.”

“Well, he seems pretty over it. Don’t be surprised if he asks you to whip out your D.E.O. credentials at some point so he can geek out.”

“My hair was terrible when I took my photo ID. There’s a story there…”

“And I look forward to hearing it, but I’m sure you looked beautiful as always.” Sara flashes one of her trademark smoldering looks, threading her fingers through Alex’s and leading her over to the dinner table that looks just perfect, like something out of a magazine. The evening is spent with laughter amongst family and friends, too many embarrassing childhood stories to count and if Sara’s hand slips into Alex’s lap at some point, that happens too.

Mid-meal, Quentin breaks from his conversation with J’onn to turn to Sara and say, “Your sister would’a loved this.”

Sara smiles wide. “She would have.”

When Kara explains the Danvers tradition of going around the table and saying what they’re grateful for, Sara presses her lips near Alex’s ear and asks, “Would it be inappropriate to say your butt?”

“Oh, I’m so going to make you pay,” Alex says through a gritting smile. The fearless captain continues to let her fingers inch higher up her girlfriend’s thigh, happy to call her bluff.

 

…

 

In the morning, Sara takes off to another time. Alex watches the sky with her hand cupped above her eyes, confident Sara will come back to her. She always does.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://beezyland.tumblr.com/)


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